Diary Of A Busker Day 228 Thursday April 26th 2012 Winchester High Street Opposite Vodafone. Time: 1:15-4:09pm
I set up and get through Albatross, then it starts to rain…but just lightly, so I carry on with La Vie En Rose…but after a minute, it really picks up so I have to stop. The shortest set I’ve ever done – five minutes. Naturally – and infuriatingly, although I should be getting used to this by now, the rain stops the second I pull the zip shut on my bag. Arrggghhhh!!! I set up again…and it does it again. I get through two songs then have to pack up. I set up for the third time and start with When I’m Sixty-Four, which was written by Paul McCartney in the late 50s, performed occasionally by The Beatles in ’61, recorded in late ’66 and released in ’67 when his dad was 64, or something like that. A funny thing happens. Just after I start it, Janet comes up, ‘I can’t believe you’re playing that again! You were playing that before, when I saw you! I can’t believe it!’ It IS weird how often that happens – the same person comes by during the same song. Anyway, continuing the Beatles theme, I play Here Comes The Sun. One woman walks by, laughing -‘ Here Comes The Sun?!’ Indeed, that’s why I’m doing it…another comment from a lady, as it starts to rain again, ‘You’re very brave, aren’t you?’ No, I’m very stupid, more likely.
About a week ago, another musician came up to me, dragging along a crate and a couple of suitcases. He said he’d just moved to Winchester and started to ask me about busking here. He now turns up and stands next to me, waiting for me to finish the song. When I do, he says he has ‘a proposition’ to put to me – if I’m not keen on it, he won’t mind (which means he will, I bet). He thinks it would be a good idea for me to team up with him. He looks at my bucket, ‘You could make twice as much as that. It could be a great opportunity to get to another level.’ Specifically, he says HE would play the lead lines while I would supply the backing or rhythm accompaniment. I’d be his backing band. So, basically, I would be playing less but have to completely rearrange all my music, as I play arrangements designed for SOLO guitar, meaning the bass, rhythm (or chordal voicings) and lead (or top melody lines) are all incorporated into the arrangement. It’s all meant to be played together. Also, one of the advantages of busking solo arrangements is that I am my own boss, in that I haven’t got to put up with any other musicians’ (a) lateness/non-arrival, (b) drunkeness/mood swings, (c) arguments over set lists, (d) ego/arrogance, (e) being subservient to a dominant personality, and many MANY other reasons. Having suffered all this for more years (decades, in fact) than I care to remember, I’m not interested and decline his “offer” politely…but he becomes insistent. Maybe his musicians’ ego has been slightly put out. He says I’d be a fool to pass up an opportunity like this – of working with him. Again I politely decline – ‘it’s just not my thing,’ I say. He keeps on… I decline several more times and he’s clearly getting annoyed. He walks off, again muttering about how I’ll be missing a great opportunity. I finally lose it and shout, ‘WHAT MAKES YOU THINK WORKING WITH YOU IS GOING TO MAKE MY LIFE SO MUCH BETTER?!’ He replies, ‘I’m just saying, it’s a great opportunity, etc…’ and carries on up the road.
Half an hour later, I take a toilet break then walk up to The Buttercross the back way via the alleyway leading from the cathedral grounds…and who do I see set up at the end of the covered bit but this bloke. And what is he doing? He’s a SAXOPHONIST WITH LOUD BACKING TRACKS. The most arrogant kind of busker that ever blasted the faces off anyone on any High Street on the Earth. I should have known. I go back to the place I was before and find Alan having a rest. We talk about the rain – I say I’ve packed up three times. ‘I packed up the minute I got here!’ he says, chuckling. ‘Alan, there’s a guy playing up there who tried to get me to play with him and he got really annoyed when I said I didn’t want to. Go and check him out – he’s playing a saxophone over jazz backing tracks.’ ‘I’ll do that, maybe knock over something…by mistake, of course – while I’m there.’ ‘Yeah, just go and knock a speaker over, or something.’
During the second set I’m pretty lucky. I only have to pack up, actually – move my stuff against the shop wall, only once – when it rains. A blind guy, early 30s, comes up. ‘I have a complaint to make.’ Here we go, I think. ‘you’re stopping me from doing my shopping – I’m listening to you!’ Ah, so it’s a compliment! He holds out his hand which has about £4 in silver coins – 50s, 20s, 10p pieces. I say, ‘That’s a lot there, you don’t have to give me all that.’ But he insists. He’d like to hear Mr. Sandman as it’s his girlfriend’s favourite – she’s blind as well. While I’m playing it, I can see he’s recording me with some small, phone-like device, with tiny buttons on it. In fact he stands next to me and records me for the next twenty minutes. Then he walks off but, after hearing me start Somewhere Over The Rainbow, he comes back to listen and record some more. I reckon he’s got a whole album worth there – he could bootleg it. In fact, I’ve seen him before. He used to busk here with his friend, singing and playing the guitar. I remember, it must have been at least two or three years ago, well before I started. I’m sure I gave them some money once or twice. We chat a bit more. The friend got a job and is doing well so he doesn’t busk anymore. He says I should busk at the farmer’s market which they set up down near the fountain, where the old post office used to be. That’s where they used to busk and they made a lot down there. I should see Jan, the jam lady. ‘Just tell her Justin sent you.’
Earnings: £29.76
